Sense & Sensitivity
by KosagiNoLegion
Summary: So many in the Detective Conan universe have secrets. What is Hattori Heiji's?
1. Looking for Trouble in all the Wrong Pla...

Sense and Sensitivity: Part I - Looking for Trouble in all the Wrong Places

By

Deborah (Kosagi) Brown 

* * *

Acknowledgments: 

Detective Conan is copyright Aoyama Gosho. I only wish I could come up with so many plots. 

Much thanks to Ryo Hoshi, without whose beta-read this fic would have many more comma related errors than it did before. Not to mention a few other problems. Any grammatical errors still existent in the story are probably due to my post-edit edit. (rubs back of head ruefully.) 

* * *

Where to begin? For that matter, _how?_ So many secrets. So _very_ many secrets. I've always loved finding the answers, finding my way to the truth. I love the looks on everybody's faces when the Great Detective of the West, when Hattori Heiji, has solved yet another case, solved it using the powers of observation and deduction that is my inheritance. 

I suppose it starts with Kudo Shinichi. My rival. My friend and my only equal. Hmmm. I suppose I should admit that Kudo may not be my equal, after all. That if one of us is the superior detective, it may well be Kudo. Oh, don't look at me that way. I may admit that, here and now, to you - but I'm damned if I'll ever say so in front of anyone else. 

I'm distracting myself. I don't want to think about this. So many things now that I don't want to think about. So many things I don't want to see. Don't want to know. What was it that kid in the movie said? No I'm not going there. Not just yet. Focus, Heiji. Focus on the present. Or, rather, on the recent past. 

***

So, once again, it starts with Kudo Shinichi. Kudo Shinichi, now Edogawa Conan. From 17 year old school boy/amateur detective to very annoyed grade school student in one easy dose. I don't understand it myself, but the point remains. What had once been a near-adult is now a child. A child desperately avoiding attention from those who had meant the poison they gave him to kill. Did they know what that drug of Ai's did? I doubt it. She certainly didn't. It wasn't intended to turn an adult to a child. She told me so herself, even if she's never explained what it _was_ intended for. 

Ai. Not long ago I thought she _was_ a child. One of the kids who hung around with Conan, part of the cover he's built for himself to keep others from knowing who he really is. To keep Gin and Vodka from realizing that the interfering nosy teenager they'd left for dead in the amusement park had been transformed into an eight year old child. 

You have to admit, it's not a bad idea. It gives Conan – yes, better use that name for him, just in case I'm overheard – it gives Conan a reason for being nosy. He and his friends have formed a club. The Detective _Boys_. Heh. I bet Ai and Ayumi just love that. But then, Ayumi adores Conan and – in the end – he's the one who solves the cases. Solves them for that old lush Mori too, not to mention trying his little trick on me but that's beside the point. 

So there was Ai. Cute, delicate, little girl with a strangely serious look. I'd not met her till recently, but Ran and Kazuha talk about the Detective Boys all the time. Those two girls must think it's cute. So very, very cute. How cute do they think it is when that bunch run into a real murderer? The kids have, too. Conan told me about a few of them. It's strange what people let them get away with. Shinichi always was charismatic. Maybe that's what helps him – even as Conan. I wonder if my own charisma will help me with _my_ problem? 

Getting back to which Ai, pretty little blonde child Oh, just let me start from the beginning of that day. Maybe then you'll see why we're in this fix. Why you're here and what I have to do about it. 

*** 

"But Kazuha," I whined. "It's a holiday. We could go to the beach! Go swimming." I didn't say anything about the possibilities of Kazuha dressed in swimwear. There are some things one just doesn't admit, not when one's the big tough Detective of the West, too hard-boiled to think of things like ogling his childhood friend in a swimsuit. The fact that she fills hers out with style is something I just don't tell her. 

"Well," Kazuha replied haughtily. "You knew it was coming up as well as I did. If you'd wanted to do something you should have said so. I've already made a date with Ran and" She waved her finger in front of my nose, "Boys are _not_ allowed. We don't even need you to baby-sit Conan, because he's going to be visiting Professor Agasa for the day." 

Okay, so she was right that I shouldn't have expected she'd be available. But she's _always_ available. Bad assumption on my part, and now I was going to pay for it with a long boring day. _Not even a murder to make things interesting,_ I thought. How I wish I hadn't. Maybe some god heard me? What's that old curse? Living in Interesting Times. 

In any case, with Kazuha off with Ran, I figured I'd take the early train to Tokyo and see what Conan was up to with the Professor. The old man's a clever fellow and I'd love to get my hands on some of the stuff he makes for Conan. That jet powered skateboard, for instance. Man, would I love to have one of those. 

It was Ai who answered the door, blue eyes meeting mine with that same suspicious and distrustful glare that I sometimes get from Kazuha when she doesn't believe a word I'm saying. I didn't know her at the time, but I remembered that the Prof. had a ward. 

"Hi there, is Conan and the professor here?" I asked, being as genki as possible. This isn't easy when you're getting That Look turned on you in spades. "er I'm Hattori Heiji a friend of Kudo Shinichi" 

"I know who you are. They aren't here. They went out to get some food." 

I _ought_ to have realized then that something was odd here immediately. For one thing, Ai didn't talk like a kid. For another, what sort of guardian leaves his ward at home while he goes out? Thirdly, how many grade school kids, even phenomenally smart ones like Ai was supposed to be, talked that way? 

My expression must have made her take pity on me. It was a hot day. Sweltering. Perfect day for the beach, but not so great for standing on a porch in searing sunlight. Not even my baseball cap was much protection against the sun. "Come in. They're bringing the food back. You can wait inside." 

That puzzled me. Ai had never met me before. "Er not to quibble, but should you be letting total strangers into the Professor's house?" 

"Hmph. I saw you at the school play a while back and I know you and Conan are friends." She shrugged and I should have realized then something was weird by her failure to give my best bud any sort of honorific. "It's up to you. Come in or melt in the sun waiting for them to come home." 

What could I do? I went in. 

*** 

The Prof's house was a nice place. I admit to staring around in fascination at all the gadgetry. I noted there were several computers on a bench in one room. One was on and apparently in the process of calculating something because there was a progress bar moving slowly across the middle of the screen. It was just about to the end when I entered. 

"I'll get you something to drink. Cola? Tea? Water? I'd suggest the last, myself. Soda is bad for your teeth. Not to mention the bones..." 

I blinked at Ai. "Yeah, water's good." I agreed, bemused. She really didn't act like a little girl. 

As she left the room I looked at the chair sitting beside the computer. _Now that's strange. Too tall for most people. Why in the world_ Suddenly, I realized it was the girl's seat. Moreover, I had a sudden insight into what she had to be: another victim of the drug that had turned Conan into a child. 

Okay, so my insight could be considered a jump to conclusions, but think about it. I'd already figured Conan out. Once you make a leap of logic like that, it's just a short hop to figure out what was up with Ai. Not when she was doing about zilch towards keeping her secret hidden. Come on, I'd have to be deaf, blind and stupid not to have at least a good guess about her. 

I considered whether I should say something and – uncharacteristically – decided not to. It bugged Conan that I knew about him. If the girl _was_ another victim, then she might not appreciate my blowing her cover either. Besides, I didn't really want to say anything without solid evidence. Not when putting my foot in my mouth could have put Conan's life in danger. I'm not good with secrets – though now I'm going to have to be – but I knew that much. All right, so I used to give Kudo a hard time by calling him by his real name, but that's easy to cover; just tell anyone asking that he's a small version of the Great Detective of the East. So far it's worked, but I suppose I'd better stop it, now that I have a secret to hide as well. 

I didn't bother trying to make small talk with Ai when she returned with my water and then hopped up onto her seat. If I was right, she probably – no, obviously – found it painfully hard to play child to an older person and, since I couldn't confirm my suspicions, I didn't want to tell her it was okay to talk to me like an adult. I picked up a magazine on electronics and flipped idly through the pages. Meanwhile, Ai ignored me, seeming to decide to regard me as a part of the furnishings. 

About ten minutes later, the computer beeped and I allowed my eyes to drift up enough to watch the kid. She was peering intently at a page full of addresses and frowning, muttering something very softly under her breath. "Damn," I heard, and had trouble not reacting. She tapped a few buttons, saved a file, then stared into the screen with a look of concentration. Then she glanced at me, suspiciously. 

Her expression got even more suspicious when I returned my gaze to my magazine and didn't comment on her behavior. After a moment she jumped down and I suddenly found myself staring into the most intense and direct gaze I'd ever seen aside from Kudo Shinichi's. Well, maybe the Kid as well, but I've never been face-to-face with that not-so-worthy borrower of people's stuff. 

"You know." 

Ai's voice was direct, calm and intense. I decided to play it safe. "Know what?" 

She only hesitated a moment. Innocence is, apparently, not one of my strong points. "Don't be coy. You know I'm like Kudo. That I used to be an adult until I took a certain drug. Kudo told me you know about him." Her head lifted in a proud way that suggested I'd better not offer pity or even sympathy. "You're smart. He's said so. Smart enough to figure him out without any prior knowledge of the possibility. I can't imagine you being so out of it not to realize that I'm in the same boat." 

I nodded slowly, not trusting myself to speak. Damn but she was unnerving. Even knowing there was an adult in that tiny body, it was almost impossible to look into her face and not be disoriented by the dichotomy of her behavior versus her form. 

"I need you to come with me. We'll leave a note for the others." 

"Huh?" I asked intelligently. "What are you talking about?" 

"They're getting ready to close the shop. If we don't move fast, we'll lose them." 

I took a deep breath. "Hold on a moment. Who are they and what shop is it that they're closing?" 

"Black Organization. One of their laboratories. They're moving it today. This very minute. There's a chance we can get a hold of some samples of what they're working on. More importantly, they may have transferred my data files there." At my raised brow, she sighed. "I was one of them. Once. That's over now. They killed my sister and I quit. But they would have killed me, so I took the APTX 4869 in order to kill myself." She gave me a direct look. "Are you coming? I need someone to act like my big brother so we can get in." 

I don't know what possessed me. I should have suggested waiting for Conan and the Professor. I didn't. Maybe I wanted to one one-up him. Kudo Shinichi has always been a thorn in my side, after all. Helping Ai get information that might get him cured would be something to hold over his head. "All right." 

*** 

The laboratory was in an older building downtown. One of those multi office buildings that get rented by sleazy little outfits. Sort of like Mori-san's place, in fact, if limited to office space only. I glanced at the list of companies, reading through them for the one Ai had said was the one. "Third floor. How do you want to handle things?" 

"I'll slip in and take a look around. Then you follow. Tell anyone there that I have to go to the dentist up on the fourth floor and made a run for it." She handed me one of those little badges that Conan and the other kids had. "Here. I'll use this to let you know what's up or if I need help. Make a big fuss. Insist that I have to have come this way." I examined the badge, noting the little buttons and tiny speaker. Agasa's work. Damn, but that man has some wonderful toys. I could have used one of those when I ended up falling off a cliff with Kazuha a while back. 

Ai and I went upstairs and she tried the door. Not unexpectedly, it was locked, but I wouldn't be much of a detective if a locked door could stop me. I got it open quickly and quietly. Okay, it took a bit more than the minute I'd claimed it would take, but not by much. 

I let Ai go in, though I felt a touch of worry about doing so. I don't have much in the way of parental instincts, but something didn't feel right about letting a little kid go into a dangerous situation all by herself. I forced myself not to say anything. She looked like a little kid, but I knew she wasn't. I'd have to trust her to take care of herself. I sensed that she wouldn't have let me do otherwise. 

"There's no one here – it's looking like we might be too late. You may as well come in. You'll look more suspicious standing out in the hall." The tinny little voice came over the badge she'd given me. I took her suggestion immediately, since I was beginning to feel a bit nervous hanging around the way I was. Strange that, but most of my cases have been after a murder. Not the sort of cases that involve breaking and entering into the bad guys' lab to investigate what they're up to. I usually leave that sort of thing to Zenigata or the Shadow, usually. 

Inside, the first room was empty and had that echoing feel that a room gets when it's been cleared of its furnishings. I listened, chose the door on the left and looked through. No sign of Ai in the short hallway, so I stepped in and opened each door in turn. More offices, each as empty as Mori's head. As I reached the end of the hall and looked into the room at the end, I frowned. Something seemed off. I started pacing. 

A minute later, I'd found it. Nestled between two walls, entrance hidden behind and _inside_ a metal cabinet, was another hallway. I used the badge to call Ai and tell her what I'd found. "It's in the last room off the hallway to the left," I told her. "Do you want to come look?" 

"I'll be right there." 

Looking into the hall, I shone a light down the darkened passage. There was a single door at the other end. From the looks of things, the owners had used a fortuitous arrangement to set up a secret area in their office space. Ai stepped up then and nodded. "If there's anyone here," she noted, "this is where they'll be. Careful. It may be dangerous." 

"Let's go," I said. "I'm curious now." I wonder if Kudo had thought that when he got his butt – and the rest of him – turned back into a bratty kid? Probably. The two of us have more in common than we sometimes like to admit. 

The door at the other end of the passage was unlocked and we stepped out into another hallway, this one brighter because of the window at the end. There were two doors, one on each side, and a quick check of the first one revealed an office with a computer. Ai made a little noise, a pleased hum, and headed straight for it. "I'll start here," she said, booting it up. "If you want, look around, make sure we're really the only people here. If you run into anyone, claim the doors were all open and that you're looking for me. Make sure you talk loudly and I'll come out of hiding." 

I nodded and left the lady to her pleasures. Computers aren't really my thing in any case. 

The next room was a lab, plain and simple in its layout. A single counter at the center with the usual sink arrangement such counters have. More counters encircling the room. Test equipment was obviously being packed away and the only thing running in there was a small refrigerator in one corner and some sort of cage in the other. I stepped around the counter and halted, blinking. The cage was big enough to hold a gorilla – if it didn't want to move around much – and it was occupied. Not, I hasten to add, by a gorilla but by a naked man. He lay curled in a fetal position on the floor, breathing heavily. 

I hurried over to the cage and worked my lock-picking magic on it. As I did the man, a wasted wreck from the looks of it, raised his head and looked at me. "Make them go away," he begged in English. A Gaijin. Fortunately, I understand English pretty well. Even speak it better than most, if I do say so myself. 

"Them?" I asked in the same language, blinking at the stranger. Rough brown hair, shaggy beard, pale skin and reddened grey eyes that held a lost, terrified expression. "What do you mean?" 

"You promised they'd go away soon. That the pills would make them go away forever! Why haven't they? I can see them. All around us. MAKE THEM STOP STARING AT ME!" At that he leapt at me and grabbed me around the throat. We crashed around the room, struggling with each other. He was surprisingly strong, despite his wasted condition, and I finally had no choice but to hit him on the jaw. He dropped to the floor, unconscious. 

I leaned against the counter, noticing the mess we'd created. Glass was everywhere, powders and liquids spilled across the floor from where we'd knocked into one of the packing boxes. The refrigerator door was hanging open. It was almost empty except for a small rack of hypodermic needles, all full of something pink. I didn't like the looks of the things. I've never been fond of shots, and those needles looked too damn long and thick. I looked away and straight into the face of a newcomer. 

He must have arrived just as I'd knocked the lunatic out. Average height, average weight. Terminally non-descript. His stare from behind thick glasses held a mixture of surprise, insult and alarm. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" 

I remembered Ai's orders. "I'm looking for my sister," I gasped loudly. "We were going to the dentist up on four and she slipped off. She's got a cavity and she doesn't like the drill." I glanced at the man lying on the floor. He was quite firmly unconscious, for which I was glad. Especially since I didn't like the way this new guy was looking at me. "What the hell's _his_ problem?" 

The man's features twitched. "Heh He's not well." 

"You're not kidding," I replied, as the newcomer moved through the room. I didn't think he looked too well either. He was pale, twitchy and nervous. Not that I blamed him, if _I_ worked for the Black Organization and had some strange teenager poking around in my hideout I'd have been nervous too. He wasn't armed though and he looked too weak to manage much. "I ah I'd better keep looking for my sister" I moved towards the door as he walked towards me. 

"Here, I'll help you." I didn't like the offer and definitely didn't want to accept it. He ignored my protests though, adding, "I don't know how you got in. I was sure I locked the doors. All of them." He glanced at the cage as he approached me, reaching over to put a hand on my shoulder. 

I started to dodge, nerves on edge from a combination of factors. His hands had been empty the last I'd seen, and the fact that one now had a knife clenched in a fist registered only just in time. I grabbed his wrist. "What do ya think yer doin'?" I demanded angrily as he twisted in my grip. Once again I was struggling. 

The blade narrowly missed my neck and I twisted his wrist in a nerve hold. He was stronger than I'd expected, but I could tell he wasn't my equal. The knife went clattering onto the floor behind us and he broke free, falling backwards into the open refrigerator. I took a deep breath, realizing that I wasn't going to get sense out of him. Either I'd failed to fool him, or he was desperate or paranoid enough that not even my mildly plausible story was good enough for him. 

While I wondered what to do, he reached into the refrigerator and grabbed a hypodermic. Wild eyed, he launched himself at me. As I moved my arm to knock him away, I heard a sharp sound from the doorway. He collapsed in on himself, a red stain forming on his chest. 

I glanced back at the doorway and stared at Ai. There's no sight quite so unnerving as a tiny delicate little kid holding a pistol with the calm air of concentration of an Olympic-class marksman. A thin trail of smoke rose from the muzzle. Between that, and the fact that it was beginning to dawn on me that she might have saved my life, I was pretty stunned. 

"GET BACK!" she shouted and I realized I'd let myself get too distracted by the sight. The guy was mortally injured, but he'd had enough strength to stagger another step towards me and swing the hypodermic straight for my chest. I only had time to turn slightly and take the needle into my arm instead. Something agonizingly cold seared its way into my bicep and I gave a yell as I fell backwards. 

As the guy dropped I sat on the floor and stared at the hypodermic sticking into me. "Damn. Goddamn it to hell and back. Shit shit SHIT!" The profanity I was gasping was pretty much automatic. I turned a look on Ai. "Preschool here I come?" I asked weakly, trying to make a joke and failing miserably. 

Ai looked at me and I felt a surge of dizziness. She seemed to be glowing slightly. "APTX4869 is a pill," she said coolly, though her expression was tense. I thought I saw fear in her eyes and not a little worry. "I don't know what's going to happen." 

"Th that's okay" I managed to gasp. "I think I'm going to find out." Then I fainted. 

***

When I came too, I was lying on the floor of the lab. Several hours had passed, I thought, since the light from the hall and the window outside was dim and darkening quickly. Ai was sitting beside me, eyes watchful, fingers around my wrist, that faint glow around her flickering in and out every so often. "It seemed best to stay here," she said when our eyes met. "I can't move you and your heart rate, while somewhat unsteady, suggested you weren't dying." 

I didn't add that there wasn't a lot she could have done if I had been. I took stock of myself instead. I was still my proper age and, while I had a headache that would have killed an elephant, I felt – in general – normal. I turned my head and nearly shrieked. Only force of will allowed me to whisper, "Ai move very quietly. You must not have killed him" 

Ai stared at me, followed my gaze. "What are you talking about, Hattori?" Her tone was confused and maybe a bit worried. 

I blinked, first at her, then at him. The man, who I would have sworn she'd just killed, was standing at the counter nearby. He had an intent look on his face and he appeared to be holding something up in front of his face. Then I noticed the dark stain against the pallor of his shirt. "He's right there" Something was strange though. He didn't seem aware of us. When he turned and walked over to the refrigerator and acted like he was opening it, I felt a surge of fear. He'd walked right through Ai. Even worse, I saw his body still sprawled on the floor. "Oh my god." Other, fainter, shapes were just visible now. Animals, mostly, but other people The room suddenly felt very crowded. I whimpered. 

"Hattori, I think we'd better get out of here. You're hallucinating and if he had friends they may be showing up any minute now. Let's go." 

"Wait what about the other guy" I pointed towards the prisoner. He may have attacked me, but from the looks of things I figured he probably had reason. When I saw another image of him crawling around the cage restlessly I knew what Ai was going to say next. 

"Dead," Ai said in a tone that suggested she didn't really care. Except she put her hand on my arm to help me up at the same time and I felt a sudden shock of rage and self-hatred pour into me. "Hattori-kun?" _What is it? Why is he acting like this? Why did I bring him? Too damned overconfident. LOOK WHAT I'VE DONE!_ They weren't my thoughts but they burned in my brain like acid, driving thoughts of the dead man out easily. 

"N..no Let me go Don't touch me" I could see it. Her past swimming through my head, spinning past my eyes in a kaleidoscope. My entire body shuddered as if I'd taken a massive electrical shock. The things she'd done swirled around my head. The anger at herself and at those who'd convinced her to do it. The sorrow of loss. It hurt. It hurt so much I thought I'd faint just from the pain alone. She let go of my wrist, expression blank. I forced myself to my feet and swayed. "What what's happening to me, Shiho-san?" 

Ai gave me a strange and frightened look. "_Shiho?_" she demanded, eyes wide. "Where did you get that _name_?" 

I shook my head. I didn't know. I just knew I had to get out of there. Away from the man going through his routine, unaware that he was dead. Away from his victims, equally unaware of their ends. Away from the child who wasn't a child and her guilt and self-hatred. Away. I crawled to my feet and ran. 

To Be Continued...


	2. Death Comes as the End Doesn't It?

Sense and Sensitivity:Part II: Death Comes as the End – Doesn't It? 

By

Deborah Brown 

* * *

Acknowledgments: 

Detective Conan is copyright Aoyama Gosho. I only wish I could come up with so many plots. 

Much thanks to Ryo Hoshi, without whose beta-read this fic would have many more comma related errors than it did before. Not to mention a few other problems. Any grammatical errors still existent in the story are probably due to my post-edit edit. (rubs back of head ruefully.) 

* * *

It was late afternoon when Ai found me. I was lying on my back in the park, staring up at the dimming sky, ignoring the kid on the swing-set nearby. He didn't pay me any attention either, but then I had a feeling he wasn't really aware of me. Not when half his skull was caved in. I vaguely remembered reading about him in the paper. Killed in an auto accident about twenty feet from this spot. A hit and run – the killer still at large. I was trying very hard not to think about that, or about the other people I'd seen during my wild dash away from that spot. 

"Are you feeling better?" Ai said softly. "Should I call for the Professor and Conan?" 

"No." I said the word without much emotion. I felt too drained, too exhausted to bother. "I'll get up in a bit. I just don't like looking at them." 

"Hattori-kun, I have no idea what you're talking about. Do you want to tell me?" Ai settled in the grass beside me and I looked at her. It was easier than looking at the kid. "I know the drug must have done something to you. We really should try and find out what." 

I shrugged, forced myself to sit, twisting sideways to avoid her touch when she tried to help. "I already know what it's done. Or I can guess. Or maybe I _am_ just hallucinating. I don't know." At her look, I sighed. "I'm seeing dead people. They're everywhere." I hesitated a moment. "And when you touched me It was like I could read your feelings your past your thoughts. Sorry, Ai, but that's not something I ever want to do again." 

Ai frowned. "Hattori-kun. Dead is dead. There is no such thing as ghosts." 

"So the swing is moving because of the wind?" 

She blinked, glanced over at the swing. Frowned. "There is no wind," she muttered. "But it does appear to be" 

I looked at the kid for a long moment and finally got up and walked over to him. "Hey. Kid. Can you hear me?" He sort of looked through me and I sighed. That boy in that movie may have been able to talk to them, but not me, apparently. Made me less certain of the reality of what I was seeing. I turned away and looked at Ai. 

"You need a drink. Something hot. There's a café over there," Ai said decisively. "Come on." 

*** 

An hour later I sat in a corner seat, trying to ignore the angry vibes I was receiving from the men standing out the counter waiting to pay. I didn't even need to touch the nearest to know he was infuriated at having to wait so long. I sipped the heavily sugared hot tea Ai'd forced me to order and looked at her finally – beginning to feel a bit more human at last. "Well?" I asked. "What now?" I glanced over at the cash register. The line was thinning, though the poor cook looked harassed and unhappy. I couldn't blame him, since I was sure that wasn't his usual job. 

"We get you home and have the Professor examine you," Ai said after a moment. "I'll hold my opinion of what you think you're seeing until then." She looked uncertain and a little bit lost. "Everything I believe says there's no such thing as life after death, Hattori-kun. I find it hard to accept what you think you're seeing." 

"I don't care what you think it is. I just want to know when it'll wear off." I paused, looked at Ai and felt a sudden chill. "Or if it will wear off at all." It occurred to me that Kudo must have felt much the same. _Oh dear god,_ I thought. _What if they never go away?_

That was when the explosion hit. 

***

Dust filled the air. Dust, and the sounds of screaming. I took stock of myself. No damage, really, aside from the headache and that I'd had beforehand. Blinking through the dust, I found Ai sitting there looking grimly off towards the kitchen. There was a fire in there and instinct, combined with the need to forget my current troubles, drove me to my feet and straight through the curtained doorway. I barely noticed the other customers, most of whom were either cowering under the tables or running for the exit. I had to push past several big guys before I managed to get to the kitchen. 

Most of the fire was at the stove. As I watched, flames licked the wall, big, blue, red and gold tongues of it. I noted the young man sprawled on the floor, his face hidden behind his arms. He was on fire and I started for the extinguisher lying beside him, only to stop when I saw the pulled pin and scented something strange. Something was wrong. I grabbed the curtain, threw it over the guy, and wrapped it tight. He was moaning and whimpering under the fabric, but at least that fire was out. The one on the stove was still going strong, though, and I looked around for something else. 

"What the" The voice was that of an older man who was entering through the back door. He stared at me, then at the fire. His eyes narrowed and he started for the extinguisher. 

"No!" I managed to gasp, sitting up. I was sure the thing wasn't safe. A grease fire shouldn't have burned quite so merrily and now that I'd had a second to think I could smell – just faintly under the smoke – the scent of butane. "Sand Water Anything but that." 

He looked at me, then nodded calmly. "Right." Leaning under the cabinet he grabbed up a bag of cat litter and poured it onto the fire. His expression was grim as he moved, grim and coldly angry. "Where is Mariko?" 

I shook my head as I began unwrapping the guy. He was still whimpering, body moving around weakly. I doubted we'd get much sense out of him. "I don't know," I started to answer, then saw her. _Oh no. Not another not again._ She might have been pretty once. Slim, with sleek dark hair and hands that said her complexion must have been a pale ivory. It was her face that made me want to gag. It was ruined, the nose bone white against bloodied flesh, eyes staring lidlessly. Her waitress outfit was ruined in the front, one seared corner of the collar hanging low against the mangled flesh. 

I took a deep breath and forced myself not to look. I'd seen dead bodies before, I reminded myself. Many in worse condition than this poor kid. _Yeah, but those bodies didn't walk around like a Resident Evil zombie and go about the business of making tea._ I was, I realized, shaking like a leaf. I didn't _dare_ tell the guy what I was seeing. He'd think I was insane. _Maybe I am. _

As the last of the flames died away, Ai's voice came from the doorway. "I've called for an ambulance like you said. And the police. Did I do okay?" She was obviously trying to cover for herself, so I nodded. "Oh good. I was scared." 

As Ai started forward the old guy stopped her. "Stay there, little one. This isn't a place for children." He turned to me and held out a hand to help me up. Stupid me, I took it. 

Waves of anger and guilt washed over me as my body was jolted again. It took everything I had to keep from gasping at it. As I leaned on a counter, panting, the old guy knelt beside the man I'd saved. "Toshi? Son? Can you hear me?" he asked as he slid the curtains away. One side of the young man's face was burned, both eyes were shut tight, and his expression was twisted in agony. "Damnit. Oh damn it to hell." He sat back on the floor and watched his son twist and moan from the pain. I watched him, leaning on the counter and trying very hard to ignore the girl who was silently going about her business despite the horror that was her face. 

***

It was only a few minutes later that the sound of sirens could be heard outside. Another minute passed before two paramedics rushed in and began working on Toshi without wasting time with questions. I noticed another man entering behind – a tall, older, man who I recognized as a Detective Shiratori. He looked at the mess with a weary expression, then turned to the old guy. "I am Detective Shiratori. I understand there's been an explosion. If I could get your name?" 

"Yamaburi Kiyoshi," the old man replied quietly, getting out of the way of the paramedics. "I don't know what happened. I stepped out to take care of the garbage and when I got back" He pointed to me. "This young man was saving my son Toshi." 

I straightened, forced myself not to show exactly how upset I was. "Detective. I think we met once before, a month or so ago? At my father's office in Osaka?" 

"Hmmm." The detective looked at me. "Ah yes. Hattori's boy. You've got something of a reputation, I hear. Any comments?" 

That surprised me. Most police aren't too happy letting civilians, especially teenaged civilians, get involved in criminal investigations. My father, especially, has had a few choice words to say about my nosiness. "Not yet," I answered. "If I do, I'll tell you." 

Shiratori nodded and turned a raised brow on Ai. "Where's Conan-kun, Ai-chan?" he asked gently. I realized that he must have had a fair number of chances to deal with Conan and his little gang. 

"Out with the professor," Ai answered, smiling innocently up at the detective. "Hattori-kun and I were out for dessert." 

The detective turned to the paramedics. "How is he?" 

"Pretty bad," the older of the two men answered. "He's going into shock. I don't think you're going to get much out of him." 

"Take him to the hospital then. If he says anything, please write it down." Shiratori looked at the scene again. "It may just be an accident, of course, but" 

"No." I shook my head. "Not an accident. Not unless an accident put butane in the fire extinguisher." 

Shiratori sniffed the air. "Butane?" He frowned. "I suppose I smell something like that. Are you sure it was in the extinguisher?" 

"Almost certain. I think there must have been a grease fire and he," I nodded at Toshi, "was about to use the extinguisher on it. When he did, the fire blew up in his face." I hesitated. "Mr. Yamaburi? Who was Mariko?" I had a feeling I already knew. 

Yamaburi turned to me and frowned slightly. "My waitress," he answered quietly. "Toshi's fiancée." 

I vaguely remembered the girl who'd served my tea some time earlier – over an hour ago, I realized. I'd not paid her much attention then, and now the only thing I could see of her now was the horror that still moved on its appointed rounds, completely unaware that it shouldn't be. I tried to remember when I'd seen her last and couldn't – I'd been too preoccupied by my problem. "I saw her a little bit before the explosion," I lied after a moment. I knew she had to be here. Somewhere. "We should probably search around for her." I glanced around the room, suspecting that her body had to be somewhere in there. 

It was an almost typical restaurant kitchen. No window through to the dining area like most, but aside from that it had the usual stove, refrigerator and cabinets. One was tall, big enough to hold someone and I frowned at it. Shiratori followed my gaze and walked over. "Surely not," he started to say, opening it and sighing with relief when the only thing that fell out was a mop. I winced. I knew she was dead. Knew she had to be somewhere in the area. Knew it, and didn't dare say so without evidence to back me up. 

"What is going on down here?" An older woman's voice came from the outside door. "I woke up from my headache with sirens screaming outside." I looked up at a dark-haired, very attractive, middle-aged woman. She reminded me of my mother, a woman of the old school, refined and polished like fine silver. They don't raise women like that anymore, and in a lot of ways I'm glad. Don't get me wrong. I love my mother, but I _like_ Kazuha's tomboy ways better. 

"Mitsuki-chan," Yamaburi said quietly, though there was a strained edge to his voice. "There was a fire. My boy's been injured. Mariko's missing." He glanced at Shiratori. "My second wife, Detective. She's been upstairs in our apartment resting. I'm afraid she's subject to sick headaches." 

I turned away and leaned on the counter, looking around the room some more. Ai was watching me with a thoughtful look on her face and when she saw my expression she announced, "I gotta go potty, Hattori-san!" I gave her a grateful look, realizing she was giving me a chance to get out of the room and think. I needed someone to talk to, someone who had an idea of what was happening to me. 

"If you'll excuse me, Detective?" I asked and Shiratori nodded. 

*** 

In the hall leading to the toilet, I leaned against one wall and slid down tiredly, putting my head on my knees. "Damn. She's dead. I know she's dead and I can't tell them." 

Ai looked gravely at me. "That 'sight' you keep talking about," she stated. "All right. Say I believe you. Tell me what you're seeing." 

I described the girl. Described the way she was walking around the kitchen, as if she was preparing tea and taking the drinks out into the dining area. "It's like she doesn't know she's dead," I added. "Every instinct is telling me she's been murdered." 

"Mmmm." Ai considered that for a moment. "All right. Say she has been. Where's her body? And why the fire?" 

I shook my head, buried it in my arms and shivered. I couldn't think straight. The confusion of what was happening to me. The horror of what I was seeing. How could I operate sanely under these conditions? Ai spoke my name, forcing me to look up at her, just in time to take a sharp slap across the cheek. "Stop that," she said sharply. "You're not the only one who's had to make adjustments. Conan does it all the time. So do I. This isn't the same thing as our problem, but if you're going to lie down and whimper you may as well go home right now. Pull the covers over your head and hope it all goes away, little boy." 

I blinked at her. "Ahou" I muttered. "That hurt." It hurt more that she was right. I _was_ wimping out. I was letting my fear and shock get the better of my sense. _All right. So I'm seeing dead people. They aren't doing anything to me and I don't think they even know I'm there. So, it's just a matter of dealing. It's just dead bodies – and not even that much._ I managed to fight back a snort. Dead bodies that walk around like they're alive weren't exactly a matter of _"just"_ but I'd still have to deal. And maybe I could deal better with it and them if I did something about _why_ they died. I could try at least. 

"Right," I said, forcing myself to take a deep breath and thinking over what I'd seen in the kitchen. "The fire could have been an accident and certainly Mariko wasn't there when it started. Not if her body's nowhere to be found." 

"Or maybe the fire was started for a reason? Perhaps to conceal the cause of her death?" I looked at Ai with respect. I was getting used to dealing with her in much the same way I dealt with Conan, but it was still a bit surprising getting such smart conversation from such a tiny body. "If the extinguisher _was_ filled with butane, then it clearly was intended to make the fire worse." 

I nodded. "So what started the fire in the first place?" I got to my feet and headed back to the kitchen, Ai trailing behind me. The paramedics had moved on, getting Toshi off to the hospital post-haste. I hoped he'd be okay, though the damage to his face and hands was pretty bad. Shiratori was talking to Yamaburi and – from the sounds of things – was about ready to consider the whole thing an unfortunate accident. Though he was suspicious enough to have his investigators busily taking prints of everything in sight. The smell of the powder they'd used was strong in the air. 

The Detective looked at me. "Ahhh, good. You were looking a little pale, Hattori-kun. I was worried about you." I winced. For me to look pale with my dark Osaka tan wasn't exactly easy, and I realized just how out of it I had to have been looking. _Not good, Hattori-kun. You have a reputation for toughness to uphold_. Somehow I managed not to flinch when what was left of Mariko walked right past me. 

"Yeah. I haven't been feeling well today," I admitted, knowing my excuse sounded weak. "Not quite myself. Anyway, mind if I take a look around? I know it looks like an accident, but" 

"What else _could_ it be?" Yamaburi's wife asked haughtily. "It was a grease fire, surely." 

"Yeah, yeah," I shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Don't know 'till I look around." I pointed to the extinguisher. "Have you checked it out yet, aside from taking fingerprints?" It was easy to tell they'd done that much, since the fingerprints were clearly marked in pale white. "Mind if I take it to the alley and check if it really did have butane in it?" 

"No need. We just checked it," Shiratori answered. "I'm afraid your assumption was incorrect. It was perfectly normal. Empty, in fact. Which is strange because Yamaburi-san says he has it checked every three months." Something about his tone told me he was finding that suspicious. 

I frowned. The smell of butane had been strong, though it was gone now. "Damn." Shiratori moved to where I was standing near the stove. "I'm sorry, Detective. I was sure" 

"I smelled it too," he muttered into my ear. "Just not from the extinguisher. Something _is_ fishy here, Hattori-kun, but I can't put my finger on it." Speaking louder, he added, "The stove uses regular gas, right, Yamaburi-san?" 

"Eh? Yes, it does. There's no reason for butane to be in here, unless someone had a lighter." 

Shiratori looked at me. "As long as you don't get your prints on something we haven't tested, I don't have a problem with your looking around," he said. "Just tell me if you find anything." 

I blinked at him in surprise. Most cops didn't really like it when I poked my pointed nose into their business. I'd never been encouraged to, before. I nodded, though, and put my hands in my pockets ostentatiously while he returned to taking down the Yamaburis' story. Ai moved to stand beside me, peering up at me from under those blonde bangs. "Shiratori-san is a good listener," she murmured. "And not too proud to take advice, even from a kid." 

I nodded. That explained his accepting my assistance so readily. I suspected I knew which kid Ai meant, too. In any case, I bent over to look at the stove hood. I didn't see anything immediately, then, twisting around more – no fun when you've got your hands in your pockets by the way – I managed to catch a glimpse of a thin, dark thread sticking out of the vent cover. I glanced at the young policeman taking prints. "Did you get this one yet?" 

"Uh huh. Just finished it a few minutes ago. Not that it had anything – too irregular a surface. Go ahead." 

I slid the cover off the vent and took it down, keeping an eye on reactions as I did. Neither Yamaburi nor his wife were looking at me, but something said they were both tense and both aware of what I was doing. As I lowered the cover I frowned at the fan. Thread as thin as a hair – fishing line or beading thread, it looked like – was tangled up in it. The end sticking out was melted slightly and the fan itself was firmly stuck. 

_If I had a hundred yen for every yard of thread, string and rope murderers use in their crimes, I'd be a rich man,_ I thought, shaking my head. It didn't take much thinking to realize the thread must have been tied to the fan in such a way that, when it was turned on, it would be pulled up and into the vent. "Excuse me," I asked. "Is this thing supposed to be on all the time?" I could hear the faint hum of the motor, still trying to turn the entangled blades. 

"Of course," Yamaburi said wearily, as if I was asking a stupid question. "It's my rule. Some of the dishes steam a lot. If the fan were off it would get too hot to work in here – and I won't even comment on the smoke." 

I nodded, noting to myself that the fan must have been off to put the fishing line on. Once it _was_ turned on, it would have twisted and pulled up out of sight pretty quickly. It looked like part of an elaborate trap, one that would have been meant for whomever entered the kitchen after the culprit had set it and noticed the fan turned off. 

Looking at the line, I wondered what had it been attached to. Something that started the fire? I lifted the burner and peered under it. The smell of butane hit me immediately. Under the burner, wedged in tightly against the heating element and charred almost beyond recognition, was a bundled handkerchief. I grabbed a pair of chopsticks and slid the thing out. "Shiratori-san," I said softly. "Look at this." 

The detective walked over and examined my find. "So," he murmured. "Yes, I see." His eyes scanned the line tangled in the fan, then handkerchief. Near the center was a melted strand of more fishing line. He took the chopsticks from me and slid the string off, gesturing for a plastic bag. Once the melted segment had been removed, he carefully opened the handkerchief to reveal several intact capsules of the sort used for vitamin E or the like. He poked one and I was unsurprised when the smell of butane strengthened. "Nasty," he muttered to me, putting the evidence away and labeling it. 

I couldn't help but agree. The handkerchief – soaked in butane – and its equally flammable contents would have been burned beyond recognition if the fire had raged out of control. 

Turning to the owners, Shiratori sighed. "I'd like to know exactly what everyone was doing in the last hour or so." 

While the Yamaburis talked, I half listened and half examined the room for further evidence. Yamaburi senior had been in and out of the kitchen, but had gone to the grocery down the street to pick up some supplies. This was something he did everyday about this time. "I have a friend in the grocery," he admitted. "He and I gossip for about an hour before I buy my supplies and come back. It takes me an hour and a half usually, but I was early today – Toshi wasn't feeling well and he asked me to cover for him as soon as I could." 

Shiratori nodded. "And you, Mrs. Yamaburi?" 

"I normally work the cash register," she answered. "But I got a bad headache a little after Kiyoshi-kun went to the grocery and went upstairs to lie down. Mariko was going to handle sales after she went back down." 

"She wasn't at the cash register just before the explosion," I noted. "There were several customers. Toshi had to handle them." 

Mrs. Yamaburi shook her head. "That's ridiculous. I went up almost an hour before the fire started. Mariko helped me into bed, got me some aspirin, and went back downstairs. She ought to have been back by then." Her elegant brows narrowed. "But she was always flighty. No doubt she ran off to see a friend." 

Yamaburi Senior glanced at his wife and I thought I noticed a frown begin to form. He didn't say anything, though, and I carefully kept my gaze on Mrs. Yamaburi's face. "I see," I said after a moment. Then I turned to look around again, still puzzling over what could have happened to Mariko. "Do you mind if I look around upstairs? Just in case she left a clue to where she went? Maybe she left a note." 

"Yes." "No." The two Yamaburis spoke at once, then glared at each other. "I don't see why you need to poke around there," the old man said. "It's police business anyway." 

"Yes," Shiratori said after a moment. "And I think I'd be interested too. It's possible Mariko-san would be a valuable witness. If there's a chance she left a message, we should check. Why don't you wait down here, though, Hattori-san? Yamaburi-san has a point that this isn't really your place." 

I shrugged and nodded. 

*** 

With the room emptied of everyone but Ai and myself, it was suddenly very quiet. Ai spoke at last. "Do you still see her?" 

"Yes," I said shortly and stepped out of Mariko's way again. I really didn't want her to walk through me. "She's a mess. Looks like she's been burned" I paused. "No, not burned. It's more like acid damage. There isn't any real charring." I looked at her from behind. There was damage to the back of her skull, blood seeping down the fine arch of her neck. Someone must have knocked her unconscious first. That'd explain why no one heard anything. She would surely have fought if she'd been able to. 

"Why, though?" Ai murmured. "What's the point of burning her with acid if you're just going to leave the body in a fire anyway? Why not kill her quickly and leave it at that?" 

I thought I had an idea, but I didn't want to say anything just yet. We had to _find_ Mariko first, before we could investigate her death. It was frustrating, horribly frustrating. I didn't want anyone to know what I was seeing, to think I'd gone mad, but how could I tell the police I knew she was dead when there was no sign of a body or a reason to think it? 

I paced back and forth and as I was thinking, noticing that I could hear the footsteps of the people above us with remarkable clarity. Then the sound faded suddenly. Like they were walking on a drum – or hollowed wood. I paused. "OF COURSE!" I grabbed a chair and started tapping the ceiling tiles. When I reached one that sounded hollow, I shoved at it, but it didn't move. Damn. I knew there had to be a crawlspace of some sort there, but how was I going to get into it, much less explain how I knew to look. 

"Ahhh, Hattori-kun look." Ai pointed to a small stain forming at one corner of a tile. A dark reddish stain. "I think you have your excuse right there." 

I nodded, tearing into the tile with my fingers, tugging and pulling until it broke free and allowed a hank of silky dark hair to fall through. "Detective Shiratori," I shouted into the crawlspace where Mariko's body had been found. "Detective, come back downstairs." 

When Shiratori and the Yamaburis entered, I pointed wordlessly to the ceiling and held up the bloodied ceiling tile. Immediately, a scream tore through my eardrums. "MARIKO-CHAN! NO!" Mrs. Yamaburi collapsed into hysterical weeping. 

To Be Continued...


	3. Anata Desu!

Sense and Sensitivity: Part III: Anata-desu!

By

Deborah Brown 

* * *

Acknowledgments: 

Detective Conan is copyright Aoyama Gosho. I only wish I could come up with so many plots. 

Much thanks to Ryo Hoshi, without whose beta-read this fic would have many more comma related errors than it did before. Not to mention a few other problems. Any grammatical errors still existent in the story are probably due to my post-edit edit. (rubs back of head ruefully.) 

* * *

As the body was removed, Shiratori leaned against a chair in the dining area and looked at the four of us. Yamaburi and his wife, Ai and myself. "It's getting awfully late for Ai-chan," he noted. "Do you want to go?" 

"Now now, that's quite all right." Professor Agasa's voice came from the doorway. I glanced that way and quickly spotted Conan being boyishly cute and hiding behind his friend. "She called me and asked me to come pick the two of you up," he added to me. "Good evening, Detective Shiratori. It's good to see you again." 

"Good to see you as well, Professor," Shiratori replied, and gave Conan a smile. "Hello, Conan-kun." 

Conan piped up, "Good evening, Detective Shiratori. Have you solved the case yet?" 

"It keeps getting worse, actually. We just found a body." Shiratori sounded depressed and unhappy. I think he'd been hoping against hope that Mariko was okay. 

I glanced at the brat, then told him the facts, looking at the Professor as I did so. "Two suspects," I added, nodding over at the Yamaburis. "Neither with a perfect alibi." 

Yamaburi Senior frowned, then shrugged. "I suppose that's true," he admitted. "There's no way to assume it was someone from outside?" 

"It's too complicated, otherwise," I replied grimly. I was already sure who the murderer was. Not to mention why. "A sneak thief wouldn't be that elaborate and your movements were all almost choreographed to accommodate the killer. It had to be someone who knew how the shop worked." I noted Mariko headed my way again and was about to move out of her way when I realized I was going to look damn strange doing so. The chill of her 'body' moving through mine sent a shudder through me as images fluttered through my head – confirming my suspicions and making me damned nauseous in the process. As I doubled over coughing, I swore then and there that I was never going to let something like that happen again if I could help it. 

Mariko paused then and seemed to almost notice me. Her eyes met mine with a strangely intent expression and I shuddered at the sight, fighting back fear and anger. Damnit, I didn't want this and I certainly didn't want her looking at me with those eyes in that face and waiting for me to resolve her plight. "Sorry, I've been fighting a cold," I explained weakly. 

"You seem to have an idea of what's going on," Shiratori said, giving me a concerned look. "Would you elaborate?" 

I sighed. "I know who the killer is. I know how it was done," I admitted. 

"Who?" Shiratori demanded, though I had a feeling he was beginning to suspect as well, from the way he was looking at the Yamaburis. 

"The killer knocked Mariko unconscious, forced her face first into a bowl of acid, then put her up in the crawlspace once she was dead." The 'memory' of acid pouring into my lungs was a sharp pain I tried to ignore. "Then that person set the trap for Toshi. They tied the fishing line up inside the fan, put the handkerchief and its contents down under the grill, where it wouldn't be burned until it was pulled back up into the heating elements. They also emptied the fire extinguisher, fully expecting the butane fuel to cause a fire so hot that it'd set the whole kitchen on fire without something to extinguish it. It would have, too, if Yamaburi-san hadn't come back earlier than expected, or if I hadn't come in and helped Toshi." 

"Did the culprit do it to hide what really happened to Mariko-san?" Conan asked, using that innocent boy voice that means he's helping guide the investigation without being obvious. 

"That's right, kid," I told him. "That and she wanted revenge on Toshi, too." 

"She?" Mrs. Yamaburi repeated. "What evil woman would do such a thing?" 

I looked directly at her. "It's you." Conan glanced my way and nodded. He understood. Had probably figured it out in the time it'd taken for me to tell him the story. He's done that before, infuriatingly enough. 

Mrs. Yamaburi's jaw dropped. "What? Nonsense!" 

"No," I disagreed. "Not nonsense. Mr. Yamaburi, is there a storage area under the floor upstairs?" 

"There is," Yamaburi admitted slowly and I had a feeling he wasn't surprised, that he'd been hoping to keep the truth hidden and only the discovery of Mariko's body and my suspicions had changed his mind. "I haven't used it for a long while. The cooking smells would get in, so I filled it in with old clothing." 

"I bet it's just a few feet from where we found the body, isn't it? How hard would it be to fit Mariko through and shove her over from there if the clothing was removed?" At his pained expression I knew it wouldn't have been hard at all. I continued. "Mrs. Yamaburi knocked her out when Mariko helped her upstairs. She then shoved the girl's face into acid, in the sink maybe? and – once Mariko was dead – put her into the crawlspace." 

"That's not true." Mrs. Yamaburi's voice was faint. 

I ignored the protest, continuing relentlessly. "She then went downstairs to set the rest of her trap while Toshi was occupied with the customers." 

"Why? Why would I do such a horrible thing. I loved Toshi. Mariko was my friend! Why should I kill them?" She grabbed her husband's arm. "Kiyoshi, make him stop talking like that." 

"Maybe you loved him too much?" Professor Agasa murmured, though I noted I couldn't see Conan at that moment. I rather suspected he was assisting me with that voice-changing toy of his. "He chose another woman. Could you have been jealous?" 

"Jealous? He's my son!" 

"Your step-son," I pointed out. "And you're not that much older than he is, are you? You married Yamaburi-san, but then you fell in love with Toshi. And he wouldn't have anything to do with you, would he?" 

"No No, that's not true." 

"It is," Yamaburi-san disagreed. "Toshi told me. Told me that was why he didn't want to be alone with you. That was why I came back early. He was afraid you'd come on to him again." The dark, grim eyes looked embittered. "I didn't want to believe him. I thought he was exaggerating, that you were only teasing him. He told me." 

The older woman's face turned white. "Why would I kill her so horribly?" 

"That's why I'm sure it's you," I told her quietly. "Her face was what attracted Toshi to her. Her face is what made him love someone other than you, wasn't it? You wanted to destroy that face. That beautiful face. " I wished I was seeing Mariko the way she had been. I could see her pausing, as if slowly becoming aware of the changes in the room. Could see her moving towards her killer. "There's an English saying Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." 

"You can't prove it" 

Shiratori shook his head. "I think we can. I didn't look around closely upstairs just now because I didn't have a reason to. But I'd bet there's still signs of the acid you used on her. Or a bloodied weapon. We'll find the evidence we need, Mrs. Yamaburi. I'm certain of that. You expected the fire to conceal your crime. I doubt you bothered to do much else." 

Suddenly she started to cry. "It wasn't fair. He was nice to me. He liked me. He loved me. I married an old stick to get away from my family and then _he_ was there. She took him from me. IT WAS HER FAULT!" 

Mariko's gaze on her killer's face was sad and intent. Then she turned and looked at me for a long, silent moment before fading away. In the last moment I saw her face as it had been and felt even worse for it. She hadn't really been that beautiful, after all. Just someone Toshi must have loved. Someone who hadn't deserved to die. I listened to the sobbing of her murderess and felt a sense of relief that it was over.

To Be Concluded... 


	4. Epilogue

Sense and Sensitivity: Epilogue

By

Deborah Brown 

* * *

Acknowledgments: 

Detective Conan is copyright Aoyama Gosho. I only wish I could come up with so many plots. 

Much thanks to Ryo Hoshi, without whose beta-read this fic would have many more comma related errors than it did before. Not to mention a few other problems. Any grammatical errors still existent in the story are probably due to my post-edit edit. (rubs back of head ruefully.) 

* * *

An hour later I sat with my shirt off and an ice-cold stethoscope pressed to my chest. "Heart rate's normal. EEG is flickering strangely." Professor Agasa sat back and sighed. "Other than that, though, you're perfectly healthy. I could wish for a physique as good as yours." 

"If you laid off the white breads and the sugary snacks you'd stand a better chance," Ai sniped and Conan – who had gotten permission from Ran to stay over the night – grinned. "And you're not much better. Just because you have the body of a little boy doesn't mean you have to eat all the snack foods kids eat. Do you want to end up looking like Genta this time round?" 

I fought back laughter, knowing it'd lead to hysterics, and Ai turned seriously to me. "I'd downloaded as much information as I could about the lab's work while you were unconscious. As near as I can tell from a quick scan, the drug is intended to augment certain mental abilities. ESP, if you insist on the pop-culture term." 

"And? Is there a cure? Or am I stuck with it?" At the look on her face I sighed. "It's not going to go away, is it?" 

"I don't know. This is a neurological change – a deep one. I'm not sure if you're seeing ghosts or if you're seeing memories" 

"They're ghosts," I said flatly. "I saw her disappear when we solved the case. A memory wouldn't disappear." 

"Not unless it's your mind creating the idea of it," Ai corrected me, obviously still unhappy with the idea of there being real ghosts out there. "And seeing what you _think_ the ghost would do if its murder was solved. I'd much prefer to believe that some sort of ESP is picking up some sort of resonance than to accept that you're seeing real ghosts." 

"Whatever," Conan said. "Does it really matter?" As Ai shook her head with a sour expression, he grinned at me, "Hey, Hattori-kun. Looks like you've got yourself an edge over me, now. How can I rival someone who can talk to the dead? Especially when I have to use people like Mori to cover myself." 

"They don't talk to me," I pointed out haughtily. "I solved this last case with observation and investigation. Okay, so some of that observation was of the ghost's 'body', but come on. Do you really think that's going to help me much?" 

"Besides," Ai added, "Unless Hattori-kun wants the world to know he's now the Great _Psychic_ Detective of the West, he's still going to have to solve cases the old-fashioned way." 

"Oh man," I muttered. "Don't remind me." I looked at Conan. "I know, you still beat me out when it comes to challenges. After all, people will listen to me as long as I have a plausible story. But this is going to be a pain trying to cover up how I know stuff. Worse luck, I don't think there's any neat gizmo the Prof. can make me to help out with this." 

"You'll deal," Conan said quietly and for an instant I saw his older self form around him. "I don't need to be a psychic to know you'll deal." 

***

So. Here we are. You on your side of a divide that most people don't even sense, much less see. And me. Gifted or cursed with an ability that doesn't make solving crime any easier but _does_ mean I have all the more reason to want to do it. 

So. I suppose I'm ready now, kid. As ready as I'll ever be. Show me what I need to know. Stop swinging and help me find your killer. 

The End 

Author Note: This is quite definitely an Alternate Universe fic., since I'm not sure how well the supernatural really suits the original Detective Conan series. I will note for interest's sake, that there's at least one incident in which Hattori-kun displays some sort of precognitive ability when he dreams that Kudo is in some sort of danger. I do have plans for more in the series, once I find some copious spare time to write it.

~Kosagi 


End file.
